


They say that a  hero could save us (I’m not gonna stand here and wait)

by grey_lines



Series: (This isn’t) The love of a hero [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Deviates From Canon, Dubious Consent, Dysfunctional Relationships, Eventual Romance, Good Parent Talia al Ghul, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd-centric, Joker (DCU) Played by Jared Leto, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Jason Todd, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Bruce Wayne, Self-Hatred, This gets dark people, Unhealthy Relationships, no beta we die like men, protective Bats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24936817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey_lines/pseuds/grey_lines
Summary: Jason wasn’t the type to go quietly, but he wouldn’t describe himself as dramatic either.Bruce beating Jason down and tearing the symbol from his chest gave Jason a new perspective and just what the Bats had wanted, the Red Hood to disappear from the rooftops of Gotham.However barely 6 months later, there's a new case more complex and gruesome than even Batman could have anticipated, and crime ally is scaling out as the killer declares this a call to the Red Hood. As a result, Jason is being called- dragged, back into the fold whether he likes it or not, he can only hope the bats stay out of his business and his secrets remain his. After all, if bruce had really wanted to know the truth, he would have checked.How far is Jason willing to go this time? For a city that would rather eat him alive than save him back.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd, Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne, Joker (DCU)/Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, The Corinthian/Jason Todd
Series: (This isn’t) The love of a hero [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804816
Comments: 48
Kudos: 345





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo this is my first fic on here, please excuse grammar and punctuation mistakes.  
> Let me know what you think :)

It was all rage. He didn’t even know what to call it, but definitely, there was rage, with a little bit more mixed in for good measure. Willis Todd at some point, had been Jason Todd’s dad; a shitty one, grade A asshole and two time loser that was good for nothing but thuggin’, slappin’ the shit out of his wife and kid and drinking himself stupid. 

He was a shitty dad and a despicable human in general, a type that would rob a blind old lady at gunpoint and slug her for good measure.

But he was Jason’s dad.

And even though his old man had started beating his son from the day the boy turned 4 years old and every thursday after that, (which was the only day he was regularly home for more than a couple hours), he’d done some not so bad things too; like after a beating, he’d always give - well more like throw - the boy ice for the bruises, taught him basic maths and how to read using old newspapers because - “No boy ‘f mi~ne g’n be too dumb to even god-damn read!” And sure he’d slap Jason upside the head if the child got a single answer wrong, but that pressure and that threat of violence had made him scared enough to feed his mind, focus him and well, even if he hated his childhood, Jason couldn’t say the old man hadn’t made him clever. Taught him to protect himself, to hide his status.

There was even one time, when he was five or six, when Willis had been drunk enough to show the kid how to dismantle and reassemble a gun. The man had been all mumbles and growls, Jason, being a child, couldn’t understand a damn word, but the kit was learning to read him, scent, tone, expressions, and slowly, he’d figured out what the old man wanted before he completely lost his temper. 

Willis Todd, the rundown drunkard of a criminal had made him clever. But not immune to stupid.

Another thing he’d learned, rage was good to feed on but not to think on. Too bad it was Willis’ blood in his veins because, had Jason followed that particular observation, he wouldn’t have planted a bullet between Cobblepot’s eye-socket, easy access for the bullet to rip through the gangster’s brain and burst out the other side, creating a new hole in the back of the guy’s head, blood spraying out everywhere for the world and the officers surrounding them to see, like he needed them to confirm with his own eyes what he’d done, what his rage had done, like a tubular mirror tunneling his vision. 

Time froze as he watched the shattered spectacle fly from cobblepot’s mutilated face and hit the ground. The tinny clank of the impact was loud, like the gunshot had been. He shouldn’t have been able to hear that, but well, from the moment Jason had pulled the trigger it had been dead silent, worth a pin drop. Like a spell, the rage was lifted and there was just Jason, feeling stupid and satisfied and sad all in one with all of Gotham City Police Department with their guns and Gotham News with their cameras and spotlights trained on him.  
Looking down at himself, he felt like a child again, stupid and afraid and tired, praying ‘Da Da!’ wouldn’t hit him so hard he lost another tooth; but this time, it wasn’t Willis he felt coming, this time it would be Batman, and even though Willis didn’t really pull his punches, neither did Batman and his hits were always ten times harder.

The Red Hood, sprinted for his motorcycle, practically dived onto the seat and fled with at least 10 cop cars riding on his ass and bullets flying past his head.

His communication line clicked, signaling it was open. For a long few moments, all anyone would hear if they where listening was his heavy breathing, wet like he was almost crying.  
Finally Jason found his voice, sounding as broken as he felt in that moment, "A-Artemis? B? If you can hear me," he had to swallow, "I mucked it up... big time... down... here..." A hysterical laugh bubbled up, burning his throat and bitter like bile. 

"My god..."


	2. No More Jokes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your comments and likes! Please forgive any grammar and punctuation mistakes.  
> Hope you like this chapter :)

Abandoning the bike he ascended to the rooftops, running like the devil was at his heels, because Jason figured that if this was going to be a man hunt, he’d rather deal with the minimal number of obstacles, bats and cops did not make for good odds, but just bats? No way was that better but the possibility of escape was not zero. 

He dodged more bullets, lept from building to building, grappled and released, pulling somersaults and twists he thought only Dick-head could pull off, landing inches from the edge every time. Goddamn had he screwed up, his first kill in eight months and it hadn’t even been- well no, he did make it exciting, he fucked up that wanna be shark and- get it? 'Cause the guy was a penguin and- well nevermind. Point is, he got a little satisfaction, and well, he’d never felt that before so as he was running, despite the odds and what he knew was coming; Jason felt like a kid again, like he was high on fairy dust.

And despite everything, despite learning of Willis’ death, and Jason breaking the promise he made and the Rage but not anger settling in his veins like waves calming after the rough tide, like a kid he laughed in delight. Anyone listening on the comms would think he was crazy.

And damn the police were really onto him, they weren’t letting up the chase. Jason thought about it a second time. Maybe, he didn’t mind if Gordon was the one to arrest him, he could find no resentment in that, with the way the J on his cheek burned and the bite on the back of his neck tingled like they both agreed with that sentiment he’d expected the satisfaction he’d felt to fade. 

Instead, it reminded him of what led him to this and well, Jason didn’t get the revenge he wanted, but Willis had led him to one he could settle for and he knew, whatever part of the old man’s soul hadn’t that gone to hell, could now rest in peace.

“Alright!” With a new found conviction, cause let's be realistic, he knew where this was going, Jason stopped abruptly. 

He stopped running, turned around and let them catch up. 

He kissed his escape window goodbye. 

And because he was feeling so damn positive, so revived, “Time to face the music.” He stripped his holsters and dropped them, removed every blade tucked away in his suite and raised his hands above his head in surrender. The Police chopper's spotlight flashed across the starless night sky and settled on him. Following the blinding light and above the whirring of the aircraft’s engine, the city heard the announcement, “Red Hood, you are under arrest! Keep your hands in the air and get down on your knees!” tinny and muffled, the common effects of a dictaphone. Seeing his act of surrender they immediately began mirandizing him, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used in a court of law…” And just as he moved to comply, Gotham’s hero descended on his ass like a bat out of hell.

The full body slam into the wall was a surprising ‘Hello’, and the armoured fist to his face was a ‘How are you?’ and from there the conversation just flowed. A tirade of fists pummelling down on him as he bounced back and forth against Batman’s fists and the crumbling wall behind him. It was a rapid total of seventeen all powerful home run hits in the space of ten seconds, Jason couldn’t help but think ‘I feel like a ping pong ball.’

“ **We had a deal!** ” Batman gripped him by the lapels of his jacket, dragging Jason in as he seethed, hands trembling from the strain to took to remain in control, “ **We had a fucking deal!** ”

Jason didn’t reply, there was nothing he could say, no way to explain. He would defend himself but the curse he was born with had fear paralyzing him from the get go; and he guessed that what Bruce thought he saw was just bratty defiance so there was no surprise when Jason caught a couple solid sweeps to the gut, his protective vest doing nothing against the impact of the hits, and if Jason wasn’t used to it by now he would have crumpled like a wet paper bag, instead of just wheezing and fumbling to boost the oxygen intake to his helmet.

But Batman stopped him,“ **You shot the Penguin** **_point blank_ ** ,” Slammed Jason’s hand against the concrete only to hear a crunch, “ **Unlike Batwoman, you did it as the whole world watched it happen**.” He gripped him by the throat and threw him, sending Jason sprawling like a rag doll. 

For everyone else it was like time had stopped, the world watched as batman slammed into the vigilante and wailed on him throwing the guy back and forth, across rooftops, down into alleys and flinging him into the middle of the street, unsuspecting drivers having to react fast and slam on brakes before their vehicles hit the either of the two combatants and police hightailing it behind them in an attempt to keep them in sight.

This was an Alpha fight. 

The fury that Batman was displaying left no question to his designation, and if the press caught this, which by now they probably had, they’d question if Batman was stable enough to be the city’s hero.

But this was an Alpha fight, so there wasn’t as much concern since the two combatants were on equal grounds. That was what Commissioner Gordon thought until the shrill ringing of his phone and the name Barbara flashing on the screen interrupted his passive pursuit. 

“Hello, sweetheart? I’m in the middle of chasing Batman across the city-”

“Dad, I know!” Oracle interrupted, hurried as she worked to hack in to street camera after street camera to keep track of the fight. “Listen, you need to stop him. You need to stop Batman before he kills him!”

“Barbara I am not putting my men in the middle of an Alpha fight with highly trained-”

“This isn’t an Alpha fight, it's a slaughter!”

Gordon watched overhead as Batman kicked Red Hood, sending him flying over onto another rooftop, who had started to fight back, “Honey, Alpha’s behave differently,” Though if you looked close enough, the way Gordon squinted, it seemed the Red Hood wasn’t fighting for dominance, it looked like he was fighting to escape. Now wasn’t that...strange? “This is like any other, we have to let the fight finish before we intervene- even if they are destroying half the city.” 

“No dad listen to me- Am I on loud speaker?”

Gordon glanced to the left at the officer driving, “Yes.”

“Take me off!”

Gordon looked at his phone for a second, Barbara sounded almost frantic, he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear. “Keep your eyes on them, don't lose them.” The commissioner snapped.

“Yes Sir.”

Turning away he placed the phone to his ear, “What is it?”

“This isn’t an Alpha fight. Red Hood is an omega.”

Shock swept through Gordon, until his whole being was rigid. This was- no it couldn’t be- did that mean… Barbara wasn't the type to joke, he knew that much.

Lowering his voice he mumbled into the phone’s speaker, “Christ. Are you telling me Batman is- In front of the entire city- and he's just doing that because-”

“No!” She was quick to deny it, “Don’t ask me how I know this but Batman doesn’t know, he thinks Hood is a Alpha, but you need to do something or he really might- I can’t- there’s no one else to stop him...” Despair crippled her voice.

There was nothing he could say to help her, nothing he could do to comfort her, except try.

The phone clicked as he hung up.

Oracle's hands shook against the keyboard as she spoke. Not since she’d been shot by the Joker did she feel as hysterical as this; and sure, Jason was a pain in her ass with more flaws than she could count and an attitude to boot. She didn’t like him at first, especially after he came back, and even now there was friction between them, but, no matter what he did, Batman could not lose control, this was not the way to do it. 

The only reason she knew about it was because she was nosy and she’d monitored Jason extremely closely after his break out of Arkham. After some time studying him, his patterns, waiting for him to make one more wrong move, she learned his secrets, only to discover his secrets had secrets, layered upon more secrets. Curiosity got the better of her and before she knew it she was digging. 

Oracle discovered things, like how he had been with the league of shadows after his resurrection, how he’d become an assassin, how he’d purchased multiple buildings in Crime Alley and used it as a refuge for homeless kids; and when she found his secrets secrets, like how he had gone undercover under Black Mask and then, after uprooting a majority of the guy’s empire, became a drug lord himself and used the money he made from drugs to help develop the shelter for those kids. The ice in her heart cracked a little and she unfolded to a more open perspective, sure he was always taking his anger out on them, baiting them and was constantly gunning for murder. But before, she had thought he was just crazy. 

Then she stopped digging when she found one more secret.  
  


Jason Todd was an Omega. 

When she found out, suddenly everything had made sense;

What made omegas vulnerable was their fear. An omega was built to be surrounded by pack, it was the one designation that could not function correctly without the protection of a pack.

A lone omega was a scared omega. Without that safety blanket they operated on fear 24/7 and though it could be a strength for some, for others it just made them completely submissive and easily susceptible to abuse and victims of crime and circumstance. On the other hand you had the kind of omegas that could function well enough by themselves by harnessing that fear into aggression, and pushed themselves to be stronger. 

It was then clear that Jason was the latter. 

And if you looked at everything in a full circle, Jason wasn’t crazy or evil, he’d deteriorated while pushing and being pushed to almost break. 

From his murder at the Joker’s hands, to coming back to life, being taken by the League of Shadows (who’d probably brainwashed him) and the Lazarus pit; and thinking Bruce/she/Dick didn’t want him, didn’t save him, almost rejecting him, Dick putting him in Arkham. 

Once she’d looked at it for what it was… that night, when Barbra realised everything… She trashed her room so bad, to the point that even she wondered how she managed to do that much damage from her wheelchair. 

But now wasn’t the time to have a tantrum, or panic. Rubbing her face and shaking off the rising panic, she thought of what to do. First deploy the emergency drones to create a holographic perimeter. Simultaneously she sent out another emergency signal to all the other bats. 

_“A-Artemis? B? If you can hear me…”_

That’s what he’d said right? Meaning at least one of the outlaws that he occasionally tagged around with might be close enough to help. So she sent an emergency signal to Arsenal and Starfire too just in case.

As if a higher being heard her prayer, Arsenal activated his beacon for her to track and Barbra calmed, waiting, watching as a small red dot moved rapidly across her screen. It was times like this she hated the state of her body. She felt useless as she watched Batman throw Red Hood _through_ a _wall_ this time.

"Stop the car!" Gordon yelled, not waiting for his subordinate to break before yanking open the passenger door and climbing out. All the other cop cars followed his lead and stopped, rushed out of their vehicles and headed for the commissioner for their orders. "Units 3, 5, 9 & 11 set up a perimeter. Corstaizy, where the hell is Corstaizy!" 

"Right here Sir!"

"Back up the goddamn press, I need the situation under control, take the rookies with you and remind them to keep their fucking mouths shut!"

"Yes Sir!"

Gordon glanced at the rest at them, before circling his finger, signing them to circle the fight and ready their weapons. He didn't want the rookies anywhere near this encase one so happened to get a twitchy finger. Heading to one of the nearest cars he pulled out the dispatcher, switching the frequency and flipping on the speaker.   
  


"We are placing the Red Hood under arrest! You have sixty seconds to step away from the suspect or we will take action, by force if necessary!" He made the announcement.

Batman made no sign of hearing him, he wasn't sure if the hero was too far gone or simply ignoring him, however neither of those were in any way good.

Gordon looked over to stevens, muscle in his jaw ticking with how tightly his teeth were clenched, "Please tell me we have sharp shooters ready."

"Alpha Blue, green light confirm?" Officer Stevens listened carefully through his equipped headset, for confirmation, as soon as it was made he turned to his Boss with a thumbs up, "It's a green light Sir."

Nodding, Gordon clicked on the dispatcher again, "This is your last warning Batman, disengage from the Suspect."

However, like the commissioner suspected, Batman was not listening.

Jason dangled from the Bat's grip, gasping for air and trying to fight through the pain.

Finally he spoke, but there was no epic speech or dramatic reasoning or even an apology like Batman hoped, just a brush off and a half-assed joke.  
“So what?” He managed to cough out, “You know all the crap he’s pulled over the years, the people he’s hurt or killed,” Honestly he couldn’t be bothered to explain himself and well, it’s not like what he was saying wasn’t the truth, maybe this made him a bonafide villain now, and that- that was kind of funny, and Batman choking him didn’t stop the slight, “Haha… Are you just _sad_ about losing a playdate?”

That was enough.

_Smash._

Batman headbutted him so hard the helmet shattered, metal and glass cutting Jason's face as it broke apart and fell to the ground. Blood dribbled down his face in rivets, inking his eyes and ruining his vision. Jason gurgled at the pain, his face was on fire and every limb in his body either too broken or sore to move. He could hear sirens and yelling in the background but it was so muffled and his head was spinning, his consciousness sinking, like he was going down down down into deep waters.

Drowning. 

“ **No more jokes, Jason.** ”

His sight was dimming, was he blacking out? The fear that had paralyzed him earlier was back, but this time it wrapped around his punctured lungs, heart, tightened the grip Bruce had on his throat. 

  
  


“ **No more excuses.** ”

Blue eyes looked up, and god, there were white blank eyes staring at him, and logically he knew they weren’t Batman’s real eyes, just a mask, but it felt real and blank and dark that he could almost see death-

“ **No more Red Hood!** ”

Batman's other hand came up, clutching the bat symbol on the man's chest and yanked tearing it off along with Jason's heart. That was the only thing he had left of the future he could have had, and now even that was taken away.

Another punch was coming. He could feel it. This would be the worst one, it would likely, snap his head back, almost breaking it; knock him out cold with no remorse, no warmth, nothing.

And he hated that.

Because Jason always preferred being hit by warm fists.

It always felt like a little piece of love. This was not though, this was going to be cold and painful and-

Nothing came.

The hand around his neck, holding him up in the air, released and Jason hit the floor heavy like lead. Confused, he tried to stay conscious, and searched for his attacker’s face with his eyes, unable to so much as turn his head.

Batman stumbled back a step, shell shocked.

This smell…

Jason’s scent…

No, it could be- that was impossible!

“Jason?” He mumbled, unable to find words.

The lights died, and they were plunged into darkness, there were shouts of confusion and panic, Police trying to restart their cars, looking around in confusion as the entire power grid of gotham was cut off and reset. But this was all white noise to the two of them, Batman only cared about the chaos of the one in front of him. 

He was slow to comprehend this new information but once his mind caught up with his body, automatically his protective instinct kicked in with enough force to send Bruce on to his knees.

It was getting so hard to breathe, he needed to...to…

He tore off his cape and rushed to cover a shivering- more like convulsing- Jason.

“Jay. Jay-Jason I… It’s okay, your gonna be okay. Fuck! Oracle!” He yelled out but there was no reply, “Right grid reboot,” He muttered to himself. Gathering the omega in his arms, Bruce tried to assess the damage he’d inflicted, “Why, why didn’t you fucking tell me Jay?” The question was more of a whimper. 

Jason wanted to say ‘would it have mattered?’ but he was fighting a losing battle with the darkness that sought to claim him and his eyes would no longer open. 

“Get the hell away from him before I put an arrow in your eye.” The voice came from up ahead and when Bruce looked up he saw Arsenal storming towards them, an arrow drawn across his bow and aimed right for Alpha's left eye. 

“Back away!” He yelled this time, patience short. However, Artemis’ was even shorter. She came sprinting out from behind Arsenal and before Batman could react, swung her massive axe, forcing the Bat to release his hold of Jason and summersault back a few feet. The pair used the distraction to grab their Conrad; Arsenal threw down a few smoke bombs and a flash bang for good measure before the trio vanished, leaving Bruce with no way to follow them. 

Finally now that he had a clear head, he took in the damage he’d inflicted upon the city, all the debri and glass and tipped cars and decided the best option was to also disappear before the power came back on. Unconcerned he grappled to the rooftops and melted into the night.

He had to find Jason. 


	3. Disappearing Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred takes action... 
> 
> Enough said

Deep in the bowels of the cave, there he sat in pitch black, motionless. The only sign of time moving was the rhythmic ticking of the old grandfather clock guarding the entrance on the upper level. 

**Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick.**

Every moment that passed in the darkness, the gentleman, defined as the practiced epitome of composure and elegance, hunched further and further inwards at the passing of those minutes; the neutral line of his mouth down-turning gradually, something like a slowly evolving picture. The muscles that sculpted his bones, that on a normal day, were invisible to the naked eye- the effects of a habitual strong posture, relaxed joints and loose limbs that could disguise a man’s strength from even the most observant eyes- expanded with bone breaking tension; veins popping up like daffodils beneath wrinkled skin.

_“Arsenal is on his way, there is nothing you or I can do for-for Jason. I can only try to stop this from becoming more of a media circus than it is…”_

Alfred stared through the dark at where his hands should be, clasped right in front of his face, elbows weighted against his knees in front of him, like he was ready to make a prayer.

_“Oracle, I have never doubted your skill nor your dedication. You have such a strong conviction which gives you the freedom to act no matter the obstacles that you feel confine you. No one should ever ask for anything more of you but today… I am asking.”_

_“Alfred… I can’t-” Whatever she was about to say, Oracle cut herself off. It felt like forever until she replied, “What do you want me to do?”_

_“Shut down the city.” Alfred’s voice had never before sounded so rough, so aggressive,until that moment, twisted with an Irish lilt that she had never heard before. “Put all of Gotham into darkness.” He knew what he was asking, the chaos that would erupt would be staggering, but it was the best way._

_And never, did Alfred consider his own self to be bound by the moral and ethical dilemma of Heroes._

So there he sat, enveloped in complete darkness, where none of the city’s chaos would so much as whisper in his ear by the carry of the wind. Alfred remained in the Batcave, in front of a dead computer screen, staring into nothing, simply waiting. 

In darkness he allowed the leash of his self control to slacken, the control he’d managed to maintain disappear, and for a monster that he had kept suppressed for almost thirty years to unfurl and breath in the cave’s moist air.

He stayed like for exactly five minutes and seventeen seconds, until the whirring of the backup generator sounded and all the emergency lights flickered to life.

And just like that, his facade slipped back into place like a second _skin_ ; back straightening to an elegant posture, limbs loose and non threatening, and his mouth a neutral line.

It was time to go, the boy likely needed medical assistance and with the manhunt that just occurred, his comrade would have taken him underground, there were no trustworthy doctors in Gotham other than Dr. Thompkins; and Alfred could not bear the idea of Jason under the scalpel of a black market surgeon convicted of malpractice or alike. 

The communication line clicked, signalling it was back in operation. Alfred immediately switched to Oracle’s private line as he stepped onto the elevator to head back up to the mansion. 

“Thank you my dear.” His voice was strong again, his british accent better pronounced. “I can only imagine that must have been rather difficult for you, considering your moral inclination.”

“It- It’s ok…” Quick to change the subject, she said, “I’m assuming Jason got away, but Batman still isn’t responding, but I can’t be sure.” Barbara replied with a deep, shuddering sigh. 

“Hmm I have no doubt Arsenal retrieved him. I will make my way.” The lift came to a slow stop, and Alfred exited swiftly, walking down the hall to his quarters. 

“What? But I don’t know where they are. How will you even find them?”

There was already an emergency go bag ready in the closest corner to the bedroom door, a habit he’d never outgrown from his time in the military. All that was left was to change his attire and he did so quickly and efficiently.

Hearing Oracle’s surprise was quite amusing, a small chuckle whispered past the old butler’s lips, “My dear, all this new technology has dulled your generation’s knowledge of _hunting_.” He muttered, tugging off his tailcoat, white shirt and pants, before yanking out a set of the only other type of clothes he had hung- ready to use- inside his wardrobe, “Before we had these little gadgets, we used our brains.”

There was a long pause, Barbara couldn’t tell if Alfred was making a joke, so she asked “Are you... _joking_?”

“I would like to think not.” Once his belt was buckled, thermal turtleneck pulled down and snug against his torso; digital watch strapped to his wrist and personal car keys in his pocket, Alfred snatched a writing pad off his desk, scribbling down a quick note should anyone notice his absence he grabbed the duffle bag and walked out. “Where I came from, you learned through experience. If you wanted to know what someone would do, how they’d react, where they would instinctively go when in a stressful situation, where everything goes- excuse my language- tits up. You watched, learned the individual, their likes, dislikes, fears, and most of all, habits.” 

“So...you _know_ where Jason is?”

The garage lights were motion sensitive and flickered on automatically, lighting the way to his car as he spoke. “Jason will have sustained multiple injuries, even more so because of his lack of defense. On top of that I’m sure that if Arsenal does have him, he’s aware Bruce-” Barbara noticed how he left out the ‘master’, his usual endearing term, “-will not stop looking for him, he also happens to be the target of a city wide manhunt where almost half the criminal underworld know who he is and will likely take this as an opportunity as well. Also, the city is shut down, they won’t be able to leave without _someone_ noticing. All of his safe houses are compromised and quite frankly, as ironic as it is, there is only one place, Jason would feel even the slightest bit safe. Take a guess at where you think that is.” 

“Honestly I have no clue.”

Alfred wasted no time, throwing the duffel into the back and then slid into the driver’s side, then turned on the ignition as he pressed the accelerator, “Think my dear, you had the privilege of knowing Jason as a child. What did he talk about most back then? What place does he care most about now?” The car revved to life.

“Crime Ally? But that doesn’t narrow it down.” 

“Hmm, I thought you would be the one to keep track of him the most, considering how suspicious you had been.”

She had no reply to that. Although there was no judgement in Alfred’s statement, she couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of guilt when he mentioned her previous aversion towards Jason. Finally, she replied, “You’d be surprised how much I’ve changed.”

A fond smile crossed the elder man’s face as he drove out of the garage, around the front of the house and towards the city. “Now _that_ , I have no doubt.”

Static filled the nostalgic silence between them.

“So, where could he be?”

Alfred’s eyes sharpened, “The _Tearmann_. That’s where he’d hide.”

“How long will you be gone? Encase anyone starts asking questions.”

“I will be gone for approximately forty-eight hours. I have left a note in my room. If anyone does ask, I am on a much needed vacation.” 

“What? Like anyone would believe that!” Barbara snapped, feeling an oncoming migraine. 

“To be frank, I don’t give a shit.”

As she heard him hang up, Barbara looked back up at her screen, watching her system complete it's reboot. As soon as everything was set and she was connected, her screen seizured, spamming her with 'Alert' after 'Alert'. 

Seventy eight traffic accidents and _counting_.  
Two helicopter crashes.  
Nine electrical fires.

And a riot in _Arkham Asylum_.

Before Barbara could curse everything to hell and back, her communicator beeped. Three times.

Bat girl, Red Robin and Nightwing's faces popped up on the second monitor.

Barbara's own face twisted in annoyance, "Where the hell have you guys been. I sent out so many freakin' alerts!"

"I was with the Titans on a mission." Tim replied curtly.

"I was off world." Was Dick's reply.

"I was caught by some B-rate villain-"

"-What the hell!" Tim interrupted,

"-I'm assuming that black out was you? It really saved my ass there O." 

"Yeah well don't thank me yet, we have a bigger problem. I need you all here like, yesterday."

"What's wrong O?" Nightwing asked, skeptical.

At that, Barbara sighed and rubbed her face, hoping it would push away the fatigue clouding her already overloaded brain.

"Everything."

Noticing the tension in Oracle's face, no one bothered to question it, just activated their trackers and confirmed they were making their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again Thanks for reading guys, hope you enjoyed.  
> Also super thanks for all your comments and support, I love reading them and love your opinions, please continue to do so! :D


	4. Bad Clean Up

_[1 hour earlier]_

_It had been another dull night, imprisoned behind a polycarbonate wall reinforced with steel bolts. His patience was chafing and he was tired of the new block-mate that wouldn't stop screaming._

_And it sounded ugly, like a goat._

_He grit his teeth, mouth forming an ugly grin as he decided to finally slit the goat’s throat. But then, quick as it showed, the grin disappeared. Fuck, is this what he was subjected to._

_So bored that even fucking up a shitty, ugly goat was now considered entertaining?_

_At that thought he was tempted to smash his mini radio as it played song after song and a presenter’s talk of the evening ‘wind down time’ like that was even a fuckin’ thing. And oh that mundane fucking screaming._

_Abruptly he sat up from where he lounged on the bed, swung his legs over and stood, muscles rippling beneath his overalls from the recent lack of use. Casually, he walked his way over to the glass and rapt his knuckles against it._

_One of the guards lazing against the wall looked up at the sound, realising who it was, he approached, “What?”_

_The prisoner licked his lips, eyes darting around at the view before him, searching, searching, “Hmmm,” He raised a hand, pointing down the hall from where the screaming came, “Ya hear that?”_

_The guard’s head cocked in that same direction and sighed, before looking back up at him._

_The prisoner continued, “Either you have a problem, or he’s calling’ my name,” he chuckled darkly, “What’s it gonna be?” And that was a generous offer he was presenting; either the guards shut him up or he would. Only thing was, it wasn’t much of a choice, the guards were on his payroll and the ones that weren’t were just too scared to fight him, so, really, he was asking ‘You gonna let me go down there or do you have a death wish?’_

_So the guard’s hard stare-down with him didn’t last long and with a signal to his colleague there was a loud buzz, a lock click and within seconds, the so called prisoner was roaming the halls of Arkham, no chains in sight._

_He walked with unusual purpose the guard observed, trailing behind him like a lazy dog. Normally the guy would waltz around, fuck around and gradually make his way wherever he was going, but this time, it looked like there were no games tonight, he went straight ahead, ignoring the cat calls and fearful whimpers of other inmates as they witnessed him pass, like a shark in fish infested waters._

_Finally, he arrived, outside the cell where the screams were loudest. Inside was a guy, with black hair and a fairly large build, a little tanned. He was on the floor, naked and bloody, limbs broken and hanging at odd angles._

_And still… he was screaming in pain._

_It was surprising the guy was still conscious with how much crying he’d been doing over the last few hours, the reason probably had something to do with the vines wrapped around his body and embedded in his flesh, wiggling like maggots, it looked like the plants were mixing up and feeding on his insides._

_Yes, very painful._

_A glance to the far corner of the cell revealed poison ivy, sitting poised, with her legs crossed, glasses balancing on the tip of her narrow nose, as she read a book at her own leisure. The only sign she acknowledged his presence was the brief waive of her manicured hand._

_Glancing at the guard signalled the loud buzz and the releasing locks of the door, giving him access to the woman’s cell._

_Only when he entered did she really greet him, locking up from her book she glared at him- though the look was without malice. He stared her down, question hanging in the air._

_“A fuck off gift from Harley.” She greeted him with a sly grin. “I don’t get why she was so specific about what guy but well, she said you’d get the point.”_

_And oh did he get it. The jet black hair, the tanned skin, even the guys build was somewhat similar but this guy lacked in every aspect. It was a crude mockery of what he missed. After all the real one was beautiful compared to this pathetic pile of shit. A voice like a canary’s, turquoise eyes that would run an electric current down his spine every time he looked… The one he’d spent hours, days, months marking every in of his flesh as his own._

_Oh so the bitch had learned how to hit where it hurt huh?_

_Looking at this pretender, made him think of the real thing. His little bird, his canary that sung so sweet, remembering him made his dick throb._

_Fuck._

_The frustration he felt was just infuriating._

_Ripping the skin of his right forearm open, he plunged his fingers beneath the bloody flesh, gripped and pulled; out came a small blade the size of a scalpel._

_The screaming wannabe that he knew wouldn’t even come close to being able to satisfy his desire was silenced within seconds, throat slit and blood spurting everywhere._

_Fuck not even that helped._

_The bitch knew how to dig it in. He threw it, the blade whizzing past Poison Ivy’s head, slicing her cheek as it passed before imbedding itself into the concrete wall._

_She found this reaction interesting. This was quite unexpected. Ivy was an intelligent woman, and despite her aversion to men, she was observant of them, and she had most definitely observed the grinding of his teeth and the long held closed lids, that covered his green eyes and the growing bulge at his groin. Ivy realised the message, she’d heard her Harley lover rant about how her ex had become fascinated by some new toy before the passionate start of their relationship. So this was it, huh?_

_Ivy took no offense to the knife thrown, knowing fully well that had he actually intended to kill her, with his kind of skill he most definitely would not have simply grazed her._

_What was even more amusing, rather than losing it, he simply turned around and walked out._

_Now that was even more interesting, her grin became a full grown smile, “You’re welcome!” She cackled. There was nothing worse than an itch that could not be scratched._

_He stormed back to his cell, too annoyed to do anything else. Fuckin great, he was now bored, hard and pissed off with nothing to alleviate the frustration because the one that could wasn’t with him, was hiding from him._

_Just then the warden- some uppity prick all about ‘correcting the insane’ crossed his path, apparently it was cell check time. Upon noticing the unshackled and freely walking prisoner, he began to yell at the guard, and radioing an escaped prisoner, clearly, this guy was new and didn’t yet know who really ran the prison cause, he and a few reluctant guards came running over._

_Faster than anyone could blink, the prisoner lept to meet the warden, wrapped his hands around his head and twisted. With a sickening pop and crack the warden’s neck was broken and he stepped over the lifeless body, continuing to his cell. The guard escorting him told the others to “back up” and “let him head to the cell” like he was some VIP guest. Luckily these guys knew it was pointless, and did just that. He wasn’t in the mood for a massacre right now._

_When he arrived back in the cell, as soon as the door locked, he gave a deep exhale, tuning in to the blessed quiet, all except the emergency lights blaring (signalling they’d also discovered the body in Ivy’s cell) and the crackle of the radio._

_“Breaking news, the Red Hood just shot to death Oswald Cobblepot, one of the most notorious nightclub owners of Gotham city! Batman has arrived and is showing no mercy in the apprehension of the Red Hood-” In that moment, everything cut; the lights, the radio, and the security system. The was absolute silence, all except the clickclickclick click click as each individual access point except the cells. unlocked. Arkham had recently installed a new protocol three wardens ago, in the event of electrical issues all doors excluding cell doors would automatically remain unlocked when without power, allowing easy access and escape for all medical staff and guards._

_But to him, that meant nothing. Opening one door was easy._

_At that, anger forgotten, the Joker looked up, eyes gleaming, grin sinister. His little bird has finally come back out to play._

  
  


* * *

  
  


“What the hell O? This is chaos!”

Nightwing ripped the seat belt and grabbed the limp arm of the unconscious driver, who was trapped beneath the flipped car and pulled, ripping them from the trapped space. Quickly he checked for a heart beat, luckily the woman was also breathing, so he moved on the check the rest of the car for any passengers, and checked again after seeing the ‘baby on board’ sticker slapped on the bumper. There was no sign of a kid in the car.

“How did this happen?”

“It’s a long story,” Oracle grouched, typing furiously across her keyboard, “I shut down the power grid expecting the back up generators to remain independent but they seemed to have been affected as well, it put the _entire_ city on a blackout.” her eyes continuously zipped across the three screens. 

Left. Right. Middle. 

Left-right-middle.

“What’s the casualty rate?” Red Robin interrupted, “I’ve barely covered five blocks.”

“I’ve minimised the casualties to twenty-five percent, the drones were already deployed to various parts of the city and I’ve been filtering the alerts for emergency services so they get to the worst first.”

“Fuck. Where’s Batman?” Nightwing growled, all that talk of how he had everything under control, and damn, they were cleaning up his mess? He knew this was just his frustration and bitterness talking but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Albeit, this wasn’t as much of a clusterfuck as it could have been had Oracle not been ready for damage control.

“He is- he’s… Nightwing, I need you to head to the Commissioner. Tell them Batman has Red Hood in custody and will be keeping him detained under the Justice League’s supervision.”

“Wait, Hood? What does he have to do with this, what did he do?”

Frustration pulsed beneath Oracle’s skin at Nightwing’s immediate interrogation, “I will tell you after. Just fuckin’ go!” She snapped. 

“I’m on it,” He muttered.

* * *

For Gordon this was a fucking nightmare. 

“Stay calm! Everyone perform check-in protocol for all dispatch.” He barked out orders on after the other, telling his officers to pull their shit together every other sentence. 

Hastily he yanked out a cigarette, lighting it he leaned back against the car door.

Deep breaths, deep breaths.

Quickly he speed dialed Barbara. She picked up instantly. “What the hell is going on Barb, where did they go?”

She took a deep breath before speaking, “Hood has been retrieved, he’ll be kept at an unknown location, he won’t be making any waves for a while. Batman however, I- I don’t know where he is and I can predict what he’s going to do.”

“Yeah well looks to me he figured it out that he’s an omega.”

“What happened? My screen went dark.”

Gordon paused at that, “Please tell me that black out wasn’t you Barb.” 

There was a long pause, “Not all of it. Most...of it- but not all.”

Gordon sighed, too angry to say or do anything, so he stood there and continued to smoke, “How bad is it? The city, I mean.”

“Not as bad as it could have been.”

“Hmn.”

“Listen, Nightwing is on his way to you, he’s gonna give a speech about how the hood has been taken into custody by the league. Obviously, you know it’s a lie but I need you to go with it.”

Gordon laughed cynically at that, the tiredness seeping through, “Do I have a choice.” It wasn’t a question. 

Sometimes, Gordon felt like a dirty cop. 

This was one of those times.

“I know.” Was all she could say, “I know.” 

Oracle hung up, clueless of the hulking shadow behind her, until his voice echoed in the tiny space of her clocktower, “ **Where is he**.”

* * *

Arsenal kicked in the door to the converted warehouse before stepping aside to allow Artemis through, who was carrying an unconscious Jason. He hung limp in her arms as she cradled him close to her armoured chest. 

She marched further inside, heading past all the makeshift beds spread across the wooden floor. Heads immediately popped up, eyes wide in shock as the two strangers invaded their sort of home.

One kid jumped out in front of the amazonian with a gun aimed right at her head.

“Get the fuck out Lady.” He yelled, trying his hardest to be intimidating. But she could see how his trigger finger was twitching and his lips were trembling. Despite that, she was a little impressed, he held the gun steady and the safety was off, obviously, with the way he held the gun, Jason had taught him.

“Sure, If you want him to die.” She replied casually, and shifted Jason in her arms. 

Other kids had crawled out of their beds, knives and bats ready. Roy raised his hands, and pulled down his hood, but kept his hands in the air after. “Remember me?”

The kid with the gun, shuffled closer, and looked down, only to cry out at the sight of Jason’s bleeding face, “Boss!”

At the same time one of the other kids recognised Arsenal and yelled out “R!” 

With that the kids came alive. They put their weapons down and instead began to help, first by turning on the lights. Roy closed and barricaded the door, looking back at the now clustered kids all dressed in grey pyjamas, holy shit had the group grown in numbers?

There were now three times as many as last time. Roy looked around in surprise, taking in the changes. This wasn’t just a refuge anymore, this was a _safe house_.

Roy had only led Artemis here because it was the last place he could remember Jason staying for a while. The only place on the super down low and completely inconspicuous from the outside, looking just like another storage warehouse. Every window was now reinforced with steel shutters, he could see two makeshift back up generators at the far corner, an almost kitchen and wow four toilets and 4 big bathtubs? Jason had done some serious renovations.

Although it was all in the open right now since no walls had been constructed, from the looks of things the Kids didn’t care. Jason wasn't the type to let a single adult enter (even if they had the best intentions of helping and from what he’d seen the last time he came, the kids trusted him with their lives- well that was evident, considering they were here.

“What’s your name kid?” Artemis asked as she continued walking to the stairs and made her way to the upper levels at Arsenal’s instructions. She ignored everything but Jason and the kid, taking no heed of their new location. 

“Vinny.” The boy answered, hot on her heels, but running to keep up with her long strides, “Is da’ boss gon’ be okay? The upper level turned out to be a smaller version of a studio, a mattress pressed against the far wall, a mini kitchen space, toilet, bath and weapons rack along the wall. In the middle was a large, old wooden table and mismatched chairs all covered in piles of books and paperwork.

Artemis headed straight for the bed. The table would’ve been better but she didn't have the patience to clear it, nor was she sure it could handle his weight. 

“He’ll be fine. However I must tend to his wounds.” Looking for Arsenal, she stepped over to the platform’s balcony edge only to find he was handling the kids that had now swarmed him, trying to climb on him, crying or asking lots of questions but mainly "Is boss gonna die?" Arsenal seemed to be having a hard time handling them.

It appeared, Vinny was likely the oldest, the rest were young, appearing to be at most, ten. “How old are you?” She eyed him skeptically. 

“Eleven. Why?” He said, chin jutting out in defiance as he came to her with a black bag. Artemis huffed in annoyance, _‘that’s no help_ ’ she thought, until he showed her what was in the bag he’d taken the initiative to bring over. 

It was a huge bag of medical supplies. Hurriedly without needing any instruction he dumped it at her feet, ran to Jason’s kitchen and pulled out a large knife, a bottle of Alcohol front the cabinet and some Ice from the mini Freezer. “Boss always uses these yeh.”

Artemis eyed the boy curiously, already his focus was on Jason’s bloody and prone body. He didn’t seem shocked by the man’s state, just nervous. She remembered how he held the gun.  
“My partner needs to keep guard of the vicinity.”

Vinny looked up confused, “You talk funny lady.”

Artemis rolled her eyes amused, “He’s busy so I will need an extra set of hands, can you keep your hands steady boy?” He looked useful.

“It’s not ‘Boy’ I’m Vinny. An’ yeh” He said, already he'd removed the remainders of Jason's mask and was now trying to cut through his clothes.  
Artemis came over, slapping the boy's hand that was holding the scissors away and got to work tearing the clothes with her bare hands. 

“Just do what I tell you boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this chapter, please let me know what you think. Did you like the Joker's POV or no?  
> Thanks for your likes and comments :)


	5. A little Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce takes a good look at himself.  
> Barbara is a Boss.  
> Artemis and Arsenal are not doctors.  
> Alfred is a total anti-hero with his own agenda.  
> Jason really needs a hug.

Jason knew where he was.

In the dreaming, not dead but not quite alive either, magic was funny like that.

Apparently the damage Batman had inflicted was enough to make him comatose. The last thing he remembered was the iron grip around his neck, being dragged off the ground and something tearing from his chest, everything after that was blank. His grip on consciousness had broken and whatever other punishment Bruce had sought to dish out- he wasn’t present for.

Cobblepot was definitely dead though, the splat of his rotten brains were definitive and satisfying in a way Jason tried to ignore. A way that had nothing to do with revenge and more to do with a bloodlust he couldn’t curb. It was a downside he’d inherited from his resurrection and though at first he’d found it useful and driving for his lost, weak spirit, now he was tired, like a veteran returning from their nth war. 

Looking around him, the inky black that stretched across every angle of his mind felt imposing and sinister, this is where monsters lurked after all; and though the darkness could be frightening, this was familiar. How many times had he been here? Swallowed into the depths of his psych as his body hibernated through it’s broken state. 

The first time, this had happened, had been when Talia threw his half breathing carcass into the Lazarus pit. She had dragged him by his ankle from the cellar, caring not if his head impacted against the stone steps from her climb, and had single handedly thrown him in, leaving the skeleton of a boy to sink or swim in the glowing green substance. And wasn’t that the worst kind of come back? First thing you see is green the same shade that you had tried to escape before death, is the very green waking you up? That would have been a torture in itself for anyone. 

So Jason had woken up from his catatonic state hysterical, clawing at himself to kill the sensation of phantom hands touching him everywhere, _everywhere_. 

And Talia had let him. 

He’d screamed and screamed, tearing the freshly healed flesh from his aching bones over and over, each time splashes of Lazarus water would flood his wounds and trigger another agonising bout of healing. All he could see was green and that green reminded him of a monster that could and would hurt him, tear him apart and murder him all over again and again. So when he’d finally clawed out his very own eyes, ripping them from their sockets, his body straining from the self inflicted torture collapsed, sending him back to the recesses of his mind.

This darkness had felt like a prison with all his monsters and fears locking him in, overwhelming him. If he were to look down at the black surface upon which he stood, he knew, like magic the surface beneath him would break and plunge him into random memories that normally plagued him in his sleep, and if he looked down a second time, the next surface would plunge him deeper still. It had been the same as had he remained awake, only here, he couldn’t hurt himself.

But Jason didn’t need to anymore.

This was his last act as the Red Hood. 

  
  


He had been well aware of the consequences of his actions, and when he’d found out about Willis, he’d contemplated it for a while. First he was happy, almost...relieved, but then that relief felt wrong and misplaced, and Jason became angry.

And the truth was, being a vigilante was tough work. 

He wasn’t so selfless anymore.

There was nothing left for him to give.

And everything he desired was unattainable, so why care? Why not take what he wanted instead and retire from a life of struggle and misery. 

Fuck it.

“I guess it’s time for me to grow up, huh?” Jason didn’t need to look down, because it was right in front of him. The kid he used to be, stared right back at him, with deep blue eyes he never remembered having, and didn't say something?

“You gon’ stop fakin’’ now?” The kid asked, his accent coming strong. Anyone who spoke like that, you knew instantly they were from crime alley. 

  
Jason frowned, confused, “Pretending? What am I faking?” 

Little Jason didn’t reply, he didn’t need to, this was Jason’s own subconscious, he knew exactly what. And like a horror movie, all of a sudden, the Joker appears, but in his mind he’s a monster at least eight feet tall with razor sharp and blood stained teeth, with long arms and large hands. He come’s out of the darkness and even from so far away, his arms can reach him. Jason feels his heart thundering in his chest, reacting to his panicked state. 

“Little Canary, sing for me!” His words are like knives to Jason’s ears and he watches in horror as those huge hands wrap around little Jason, and drag him back into the darkness with him.

“Stop pretending’ ya ain’t scared too!” the child's words echo in the dark, and like that he’s all alone again.

Tears flow down his cheeks like liquid gold in the dreaming, it’s likely he was crying in reality too. There was no room for fear, there was only despair and resignation. He’d been hiding away for so long he’d almost forgotten. 

He needed to forgive himself. 

For everything. 

Losing his childhood to a monster.

Betraying Bruce.

Not being strong enough to save himself.

“It’s ok.” He told himself, “It’s ok.”

* * *

  
  
  


“Fuck! It’s a mess, there’s too much blood and I can’t find the source!” Artemis growled, digging her hands deeper into the cavern of Jason’s belly, “I can’t find the puncture and he’s losing too much blood!”

Vinny kept quiet, knowing she wasn’t talking to him and focused as he squirted another saline pack over her hands and against Jason’s wound, hoping to clear at least some of the blood as the woman worked. 

“I’m not a doctor!” Was Roy’s peeved reply.

“Neither am I!” She retorted. 

“We need a fucking _doctor_!”

It was clear the only two adults in the warehouse (minus Jason) were panicking, and their panic was making the kids panic. The younger ones had started sniffling, which lead to crying quietly in the corner and the ones that were old enough to understand more of what the two were talking about, had been trying to get a peak at Jason’s prone form for the past fifteen minutes, asking if “Dah boss” was gonna die. 

Christ! Why did Jason have this many kids, how did he even manage to feed them in the first fuckin’g place, Roy had no idea, and tried to ignore the fact that the foul mothed Jason that hated kids had secretly become a mother Theresa and didn’t even bother to put up a manual on how to deal with them if something like this happened! Then again, Jay had been talking about quitting the hero routing for a while now…

So it kind of made sense.

“Roy! Focus! Help!”

_And_ ~ he was back to panicking.

“Ugh! God give me a sign!”

Just as he said that, someone made for loud knocks on the door.

**Bang. Bang. Bang-Bang!**

Just like that, before he could even react, the kids that had just been crying their hearts out fell immediately into a routine, taking up weapons, checking the walls and running for the door. 

_‘What are they, little machines?’_

Before the kids could do anything else, Roy grabbed his gear and signalled the kids away. They backed up, but not far and made sure to position themselves in front of the stairs, foolishly trying to block anyone who tried to get to Jason. It was clear they wouldn’t listen if he told them to run, and if anything happened to them Jason would have his head. 

For fuck’s sake-

“I am _Seanathair_ to the _Tearman_.” The voice though slightly muffled, sounded clear enough to understand from the other side of the door. 

“Who is it!” Vinny yelled down at the kids from the platform.

One looked up, “Old man!”

“Let him in then!” He ordered, the others quickly rushed past Roy almost like he didn’t exist, and worked together unbarricading the door. 

“Hey seriously, what’s going on-” He didn’t need an answer though because as soon as the door opened, the newcomer stepped inside, dropping the black duffle bag he’d been carrying to the floor beside him. 

“A-Alfred!” To say Roy was shocked was an understatement. “How did you-”

The old butler looked different.

Gone was the service suite and dandy tail coat.

Alfred Pennyworth was decked out in tactical clothes, looking like he was ready for a black ops mission with a black bandana tied over the lower half of his face, which he promptly pulled down away from his mouth to hand around his neck, “Where is he?”

Gaping like a fish out of water, he could only point up at the upper level and watch as the old man sauntered past, a confidence in his stride that he had never seen before. Honestly, the guy looked twenty years younger, and jesus- was he always this ripped? Roy could see the muscles on the man’s back flex beneath his clothes as he moved, he looked like he could handle more than a few issues.

'Where was _he_ the last time the world was ending?'

‘Making Batman a cup of tea.’ Was Roy’s sarcastic mental reply to his own question, and turned to re-secure the door. 

“Artemis how is he?” Now without the Bandana muffleing his voice, Roy could confirm he really was the same Alfred. 

Holy shit sticks.

“Not good I can’t stop the bleeding and I might have broken his rib, but he’s surprisingly stable, his heart-rate is about 120 not rising.”

Alfred approached, nodding hello to Vinny as he set down his bag, “Alright, let's get to work shall we?” he muttered, pushing up his sleeves, at that Vinny unzipped the duffle back and dug through it, until he found what he was looking for and pulled out a box of surgical gloves, handing the old man a pair, designating himself as Alfred’s little helper. “Good lad.” Alfred praised, “Don’t worry, Artemis got the worst of it. Internal bleeding can be a bit tricky though unless you know what exactly you're looking for.” He glanced down at his wrist watch, “It’s getting late, sort out the others, you all need to eat. By the time you’re done, we’ll be done and you all can come upstairs to see.” 

That was a good deal, so Vinny-with one last look at Jason-ran downstairs to the other kids. “Food time! Otherwise boss’ll be pissed when he wakes up!” 

Artemis watched the old butler get to work as he hunched over and slowly inserted his hands, to join Artemis’ own in the warmth of Jason’s stomach with a- _squelch-_ and slowly, in exchange she removed hers, eyes never leaving his face. He ignored the long lasting glare and focused on the task at hand.

Finally she spoke, “What are you doing here?”

“Helping, clearly.” 

“I mean _why_ are you here? Jason never mentioned you.” She accused, distrust was an amazon's go to.

“I expect not, my dear.” Still he continued to pay diligence to the task at hand, his answer curt. “It’s only in extenuating circumstances that I leave the sanctity of the life that I have created for myself. Ah got you!” After feeling through the boy's kidneys, liver and almost half the length of his intestines he’s found a large shard of glass pinching the organ and embedded in muscle. 

Promptly he removed it. “But,” he continued, watching as tears escaped from beneath Jason’s lashes, “He is my grandson.” He did not brush them away.

“And _he_ won’t come looking for you?”

Alfred sniffed pompously, “I left a note.”

* * *

  
  
  
  


Oracle stared into the shadowed corner of the room, waiting for her visitor to step into the dim light.

He didn’t disappoint.  
  
Her heart beat in time with every thundering step he took further into the light, until finally, Batman’s shadowed face was revealed, mouth contorted with barely restrained fury.

“I won’t ask again. Tell me where he is!”

She took a stuttered breath. Never before had she seen this side of Bruce, it was...unnerving and in a strange way, eye opening. Now she understood what Nightwing was talking about. He had complained to her about Bruce’s behaviour after Jason’s death. 

Barbara had assumed Dick had been exaggerating, biased by his conflict and temporary aversion to Batman’s ways. Nor did she get a chance to witness it for herself before the next Robin came along, it had only been a few months after getting shot, losing the use of her legs, isolating in her six month rehabilitation and after returning, Batman was back to his usual routine, if a little more emotionally detached than before. 

Tim had pushed his way in all too quickly, designating himself as some kind of “limiter” for the Alpha’s rage. And Barbara simply found it easy to accept the teen into the fold, much easier than dealing with the hellish attitude of the little shit that was his predecessor. 

Had Barbara known what she did now, back then, would things have been different?

Had she been as emotionally mature and as patient as she was now, would they have all been where they were now?

“And I’m telling you, I don’t know.” Pitch black eyes glared at her as she continued to speak, “The tracking implant signal was wiped. None of the motion sensors you set at his safe houses have bean activated. What do you want me to do? Go out on the streets and ask around?” And with every sentence that left her mouth, his gaze became harsher, “If you haven’t forgotten, there’s bigger problems than Red Hood right now. Or did you not notice what the city wide black out caused on your rampage here?”

“Then you shouldn’t have cut the fucking grid.” Bruce sneared. “But you did.” Which lead the conversation in a direction Barbara knew was coming but was most certainly not ready for, “You knew. You knew what he was. You fucking knew and you didn’t tell me.” 

His voice was booming. Never before had he ever been so angry.  
  


Barbara shook her head in a combination of regret and embarrassment. “It wasn’t my secret to tell. And after everything-”

“-After everything he’s done, everything that’s happened- it shouldn’t have been a secret at all! The moment you found out you should have reported to me!”

“For what? To lock him up again, cram him in a straight jacket and pump him with sedatives and force feed him with a tube? Keep him incarcerated for the _rest_ of his life? Because his mind works differently?” Barbara was losing control of her temper too now, but she didn’t stop. She had to tell him, “He was better! He’d started improving! Even saved-”

But the moment Barbara realised her mistake- what she was about to reveal, she froze a beat, before hastily changing the direction of the argument back to her original point.

“-He stopped killing.” Barbara said wheeling around her work-station and forward until the two were wheel to toe. “He stopped _killing_ . One day he just stopped murdering everything that moved, he started trying to actually _save_ not just who he considered worth saving but, _everyone_.” This time, she spoke clearly, expressing a patience and understanding she hadn’t realised she was capable of. 

“He was working through it, Bruce. On. His. Own.” She looked up, sighing through the frustration, “And despite what anyone may think, I don’t actively obsess over people that betray us. There are more important things that occupy my time. Like the real criminals.” What was one little white lie? Of course she’d kept tabs, but she hadn’t been outright invasive so Barbara would call that a win. “We don’t even know why he did this. Did you even ask?”

Had he? He couldn’t remember. He’d just been so angry, felt so _betrayed_...

Taking a long inhale, he took the opportunity to sooth his burning thoughts, and slow the blood pumping through his veins until he had a clear train of thought. With this, the oppressive atmosphere of his Alpha presences diminished. 

And this was the reason he hated his status. Day in, day out he had to consciously repress his instincts, keep them under a tight control that strained the edges of his mind, not too different from overdosing on caffeine after going days without sleep. A sensation that literally felt like a grater against his nerves. If this is what it felt like for him, then how did it feel for Jason?

When that thought popped into his head, another followed, slipping through the cracks of his walled vision.

All this time, he’d purposely turned a blind eye to Jason, allowing guilt and denial to overwhelm him into a constant flux of intense focus; tunnel vision. 

Never had he ever really gotten over what happened; the loss and the grief, and the passive sense of justice that did nothing to satisfy the idea of retribution that chimed in his ears all hours of the day.

“The world's greatest detective never bothered to check?”

When it came to Jason, Bruce was always off his game. That wasn’t something new.

As much as Bruce hated to admit it, Jason was never like the rest of the proteges he’d taken under his wing. 

There’d always been something different about him, an off kilter sensation that from the moment they’d met made Bruce want to keep the boy, protect him, treasure him, spoil him; but at the same time he’d wanted control, and a coldness to push the child away, keep him distant like Batman was the monster that should never touch him.

But with the anger the boy displayed from such an early age Bruce had overlooked that instinct and assumed the boy was simply an Alpha.

Never had he bothered to perform tests, as they were a consistent, sixty percent average of reliable, (which was basically a guess, with a scientist’s fingers crossed as they nurse a hangover and hope they haven’t fucked up). 

Status wasn’t so easy to fake as well; it was quite rare for people to successfully hide their status, as the entire dynamic itself defined one’s state of mind.

From the moment a child is born, depending on its development within the womb; from the very moment of fertilization to its first year experiencing the outside world; this tends to be the defining factor of one’s designation. 

Alpha’s were people who were volatile, quick tempered and felt a need to dominate, (much like himself, no matter how hard he tried to appear balanced and calm). So _of course_ , Bruce had assumed the boy was an Alpha, he lacked self control; he was quick to defend and even quicker to attack. As amusing as it was, their first encounter when the scrawny kid had slammed him with a tire iron, had been solid proof of that fact.

Never did he take into account that maybe, the boy had been more _afraid_ than angry, had learned fear like the back of his hand and instead of succumbing to it like others commonly did, he’d used it to hone his instincts, to drive his need for survival. 

From any other perspective, minus the capes and moral dilemmas and black and white lines of justice, any way he sliced it… 

Bruce was _wrong_.

Tonight, he was wrong. And for once, he hadn’t been paying attention.

_“Fuck you! You didn’t look hard enough!”_ The time Jason had poured his heart out and Batman had been too focused on subduing him and keeping the Joker alive. He _really_ hadn’t looked hard enough.

A sweeping sense of clarity washed over him at the revelation. That feeling, when you’ve hit a wall you never realised was there, with no way under it, over it or around it, until finally- you find the willpower to go through it. 

This was that. 

With new found reasoning Bruce inhaled deeply, the cords of muscle that sculpted his body slowly loosening. With the argument somewhat over, it was time to focus.

  
Barbara, sensing his shift in demeanor, turned and returned to her desk, the familiar sound of her typing furiously resumed. 

“How many casualties?” 

“Surprisingly, not many.” She muttered, “And Jason? Was he injured?”

Bruce’s silence was enough of an answer.

Oracle continued, “I’ve already got all the Bats handling it, I’ll clean up the rest.”

Without a word, Batman disappeared into the night.

Oracle readjusted the volume of her earpiece, and re-activated the microphone, “All bats, once your mission is complete, report to clocktower. I repeat, report immediately to the clocktower.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think :)


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